I Caught a Long Wind
by purple-pentapus
Summary: Simon reaches across and trails the back of his hand down the side of her neck. "It is a very dangerous thing to mix business with pleasure." Annie blinks fleetingly and sees Auggie, feels his hands on the sides of her face. "I live on the edge," she says. Continuation of 3x02, speculation for 3x03.


A?N: So this is kind of a continuation of ep 3x02 and kind of speculation for ep 3x03. There's Simon too, because Simon and Annie's relationship is kind of interesting to work with. Warning: non-graphic sex.

Disclaimer: Needless to say, I own nothing.

_I Caught a Long Wind_

Simon is indispensible in that he doesn't ask questions, just follows her inside his plush hotel room and pours her a glass of dark red wine and lets her wrap her legs around him and remember that she's a spy, and this is almost exactly what she signed up for.

He takes her on the cool marble surface of the wet bar, and as she scrapes her nails across his shoulders she's thinking of Auggie.

She's not a smoker, but then maybe she is tonight, because she's got nowhere to go but _down. _He English-cuts her a cigar and she lights it, sucks the smoke through her sinuses like it's golden morphine.

It's reassuring to know that she's using him, shamelessly. He leans against the bar across from her and takes a draw from his own Cuban wrap, still naked. Annie wriggles on her stool to get some sort of purchase and doesn't fix her dressing gown when it falls open across her right shoulder.

"So," says Simon, "what brings you to Munich?"

She smiles like she's got a secret, and answers, "Business."

He reaches across and drags the back of his hand down the side of her neck, rubs his knuckles over the tip of her bare breast. She feels comfortable in her own skin, even as it crawls. "It's a very dangerous thing to mix business with pleasure."

Annie blinks fleetingly and feels Auggie's hands on the sides of her head. "I live on the edge," she spins.

Later, she untangles herself from him. She watches the sun rise over the city from the room's terrace and enjoys the lull, enjoys the kiss of cool morning air against the insides of her thighs.

She calls Auggie on his personal line and gets voicemail on the first ring. "No, by the way," she says, quietly. "I didn't mean a word of it." There's a little _beep_ when she hangs up, and she wants to be able to look forlornly at some sort of tan line on her left ring finger but can't, because there isn't one.

Simon pulls her to him when she slips back into bed, and she settles in against his chest awkwardly, like there's no room and she doesn't fit right.

He kisses a line up the side of her neck, grabs her knee and pulls it up over his hip. For a moment, he sits back and regards her. "You look beautiful," he tells her.

She'll slink out of her dressing gown and he'll tell her again, and she'll smile at the praise while she sits astride him on the floor next to the bed. He'll sing her name like a prayer, and she'll let him.

He takes her to a hole-in-the-wall café for breakfast, and he insists upon her eating the local special. _Weisswürste _and sweet mustard; it's good but she gets some on her chin and he wipes it off, laughing.

"How much of the morning did you say you had off?" he asks her.

She swallows another forkful of sausage. "I didn't," she says, tone playful. "But I've got long enough."

Annie buys herself a pretzel to go, and they stroll down the side streets. He doesn't try to hold her hand and she doesn't try to hold his, because she can still feel someone else's fingers between hers, if she concentrates.

Munich doesn't quite have the life to it that do Marrakesh or Barcelona, is more shop fronts than bustling marketplaces. German is rough on her ears, doesn't flow.

Her phone rings when he's perusing the contents of a tiny women's hat shop. She apologizes and steps outside, answers on the fourth ring.

It's Auggie, and she can tell by the rawness of his voice that he's been crying. "I proposed," he says. He pauses, but she feels like she'd be interrupting to say anything. "She said no."

She's numb. It's a wholly legitimate fear that speaking will betray how desperately relieved she is. "You okay?" she settles for, gently.

"Not really," says Auggie. "She said she wanted someone she could come home to. Said she thought she was gonna be the one off on dangerous adventures."

Annie peers up at the pale grey sky, and breathes. "So she just wasn't the right girl," like there's nothing to it but right or wrong, and maybe there isn't.

"Yeah," he sounds like he's choking. He sighs, his exhalation a burst of white noise. "See you soon, Annie."

He hangs up before she has a chance to offer her own farewell. She slips the phone back into her shoulder bag and struggles to decipher whether she's supposed to be sad for Auggie or still the wistful traveler, off to see the world without attachments or cares or worries.

Simon comes up behind her, wraps his arms around her from behind. She blinks.

"I bought you that piece you were admiring," he says against her shoulder. He holds it up for her to see; a gold-leafed mask that she vaguely remembers glimpsing in the window.

She takes it from him, carefully. "It must have cost a fortune," she remarks. He smiles, proud, and she holds it up to her face.

A?N: Don't really know yet if I like how that ends, but it's the best I can think of at the moment. Reviews mean you liked it…


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